Shiva’s skin glows blue.
He sits on a tiger skin
on a rock
on top of Mount Kailasa.
He is still and silent.
The sound is OM.
He rests in his own delight.
His heart is the sacred center.
He is a perfect, pure lake of love.
He needs nothing.
Shakti comes like a warm breeze.
Her golden veil billows out behind her.
Her movement stirs the still water.
Circles of ripples intersect in spiral patterns.
Shiva does not move.
Shakti tickles the lake’s surface
with slender brown fingers.
sunset orange, crystal white,
transparent fins waving.
Shakti strokes the sky,
pokes holes with her fingernail.
Bursts of light shine through
the indigo dome.
Shiva opens one eye, just a slit.
Shakti smiles a secret smile.
She hums a lyric tune.
She dances on the surface of the lake.
Where her feet touch, islands appear.
Verdant vines twine up blossoming trees.
Jasmine scents the gentle air.
Shiva’s nose twitches. His nostrils widen.
Shakti twirls to her own music.
Her hair flies free.
Where it touches the sky, birds take flight—
crimson feathers, feathers of turquoise and lime green,
dipping, floating against the cobalt sky.
Shiva opens both eyes.